The Discarded

Chapter 39

Wednesday December 3rd 2014

Washing Anastasia with her loofah, he kept his voice casual. "How do you feel about what the doctor said?"

Anastasia kept her hands on the side of the bathtub. Just yesterday they'd lessened the wraps, still bulky, they were much slimmer than the mitts she was used to. She still didn't have any kind of dexterity, but it was progress. It was the other two pieces of news that the doctor had given that sent her almost bouncing with joy.

"Scared," Anastasia confessed. "I know it's stupid, but I'm scared it won't happen. I just want it so bad I'm scared to hope."

He washed the creamy skin of her shoulders. Slowly, his fingers worked at the knots he always found there. "It's going to happen. He says your eyes are growing back." They'd put a blindfold on her eyes to keep the light from damaging the fledgling nerves. "Robert said in a week you might be able to see a little if we keep the lights down."

"And what happens when I get my sight back?" Anastasia's face turned toward him, black silk hiding hollow sockets. "What happens to this? When I get my sight back, are you going to ask one of the nurses to help me?"

"Why would I do that?" Cesare asked.

"It's one thing to help a girl when she can't see the disgust in your eyes. But what happens when I can see you? I don't care if you flinch when you touch me. I just ... I just need you here," Anastasia whispered.

He laid a gentle kiss on her head. "I'm not going anywhere. I don't get sick when I touch you, it only makes me want to touch you more. You're still the same girl I saw that first time you came into class. Skin fades, it ages and grows old. Some people are worth less than the skin they wear. But you, princess, you 're something special and no one can take that."

She moved her head up, presenting the same spot for another kiss. He laughed softly as he kissed her again. He wanted her to know that she was still the same girl he'd met those months ago—savaged by life and missing a few parts, but the same where it counted.

She was under siege by life, every day a gauntlet of torture with failure on every side, more than once he'd wondered when she'd break. She trained her ass off, pushing through the new exercises with bloody minded determination, throwing herself into every meditation. Even blind, she kept up with her classes. That would have depressed the hell out of him if he wasn't happy for her. She'd lost her electives until she was fit to come back to class on her own, but she had pushed the problem aside for another day. Shading it all was the schools' rejection of her, no one talked to her, no one came to see how she was doing. She was as alone as Cesare had always been.

Pushing her to breakfast, Cesare knew she was doing better than anyone had any reason to hope for. She'd taken the worst the school could throw at her. Bleeding and savaged, she'd refused to be broken by them.

Anastasia took the mouthful of eggs with relish. They weren't that great, but she'd just been cleared for solid food last night. Cesare was still helping her eat. Even with slimmer bandages, her fingers and hands just didn't have the dexterity necessary. Her lips were only melted ruins, the muscles behind them slowly recovering. There was a lot of damage and food slipped out, despite her best efforts. That's why Cesare was still feeding her before the other students came into the cafeteria.

Anastasia pulled her head away, letting him know she was done. As he gently dabbed her face with a napkin, Alexandra sat down at the table with an envelope. "It's from my father." Even as the vampire spoke, Cesare's arm settled around the akatharton's shoulder, pulling her against his body. She snaked her arm around his waist, her other hand resting high on his thigh.